Best Queen Poems
“The Queen-Sized Bed”.
© London F. Buss
A queen-size bed was coming slowly,
down the rough dirt track.
As it drew closer,
The wheels clumsily mounted on the base of each leg,
rattled like a hospital gurney on the stones.
The bed was being pushed slowly,
ever so, carefully.
By a weary old man in tattered clothes and worn-out shoes.
as he drew closer, and closer,
I saw that he was pushing his dying wife who was,
lying in a dressing gown under the covers,
in the Queen-Sized Bed.
He pushed carefully trying not to shake the bed,
excessively.
His wife's head was supported by four pillows,
she had wispy strings of silver white hair.
She was dying.
Several I.V. Bottles dangled off a hook,
And dripped painkillers into her arm.
She was awake but barely conscious,
I wondered where they were going,
but in my heart, I knew...
privacy for an hour,
I came back as the sun was setting.
I found them together sitting on the bed,
Looking over the ocean.
The old man was holding his dying wife,
in his arms… stroking her silver hair under the sparkling,
southern cross.
They were sharing her last sunset as,
the dying embers of a fiery sun faded into the ocean.
Night fell and I walked home alone,
I had witnessed love real love,
something I had never experienced,
something I had never known.
If you’re near Cowell and you look hard enough,
You may just find the queen-size bed,
with a tattered mattress and exposed springs,
quietly rusting away outside a decrepit ruin of a barn.
Take a closer look at the legs and you will find four rusting,
gurney wheels.
and if you approach quietly on a moonlit night,
you will hear soft sobbing in the whistling wind,
as it dreams of that dying sunset,
under the southern cross...
and the milky way lights up the sky,
soaring into the heavens
as the angels sing.
I wrote this non fiction poem
For Debra Jean..
The sun’s sparkling streaks,
of sangria grace,
descend upon
the malachite verdant valley;
world of pristine mountains,
and evergreen tales of
rainbow hued meadows.
Where medieval castles
are guarded with a fragrant
fortress of blushing flowers,
enveloped in topaz gold beams.
She walks along the
fields of redolent reveries,
where hope sprouts
like the rising moon-
whispering secrets to
the whimsical wind,
in mystical musicality,
whilst butterflies
rest upon her ebony hair,
choreographing a
three dimensional
ballet in ethereal delight,
cradling and mirroring the
dancing spirit in
emerald elegance.
Her chrysalis heart
nurtures their sanctuary
with sanguine serenades,
for she is the queen
of azure wings,
dressed in timeless mists;
her mind is wrapped
in kaleidoscope clouds
draped in pearl crescent dust,
fluttering and twirling with
twinkling stars between
fragile thin veins,
like delicate petals
woven from a tapestry
of thriving dreams.
Yet the sound of
unsung songs drift
along shadowed skies-
of champagne and
rosemary rays,
fleeting like waning colors,
longing to spread floral arms,
to sketch watercolor
paintings from
dandelion desires-
to be heard and seen
beyond the creek of thorns
and thistles,
as peacock feathers soar
amongst petrichor leaves swaying
to the celestial tunes of her life-
amidst raining regrets
a devoted warrior never lets
eclipsed spheres dim
their light upon her sight.
Fool of Infiniti
A wanton bird pecks at the stars
A Jester peers through crystal bars
This prison of love with rainbow hue
Illusion parts to lets you through
On dragon wings forever free
You quest into your dreams to see
Smoke and mirrors and shadow haze
To guide you through an endless maze
Slow motion tear rolls down her cheek
Its only passion that you seek ?
Engulfed in strange duality.
She wonders her reality
Your eyes still mock her with desire
Your kisses light her inner fire
Your touch can melt her to your will
But you will never take your fill
Black widow spider guards your heart
She spun the web, she keeps it taut
It is your only fatal flaw.
A secret, silent metaphor.
And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand the strangest key
To fit the door of What Will Be ?
And when her eyes search yours again
You take her to the spider den
You spin the dreams she hopes to see
And lock your hearts in mystery.
So enter in to lick the flame
Eternal prisoner of the game
Illusion is false imagery
She whispers your Infinity
The Queen of Fate
The Queen of Fate by the outer Gate
Her carriage to Nowhere, will await
Her cloak is wrapped against the night
Her eyes are wide with peculiar fright
Gray horses eyes turn back in fear
With thunderclaps upon her ear
Blue jagged lightning points the way
Along the path to yesterday
Cold, sullen driver cracks his whip
His crooked smile curls round his lip
His horses leap the cruel abyss
Dark Queen of Fate sees none amiss
Above the mist a gate appears
Who will wipe the Gate-man's tears ?
Gray horses strike and paw the air
Fate Queen ascends the carriage stair
And all about her swirl the dreams
The nightmares all with voiceless screams
And in her hand a wondrous key
To lock Enigma's Mystery
Pass through the gate O Queen of Fate
Another carriage will await
Drawn by steeds of Promises
Illusion starts and finishes.
On day full of doom and gloom
With no strength to leave my room
With no hope to look towards light
With darkness closing in at night
I remember…..
When my heart floods with despair
Burdened by my load of care
When the rose has but a thorn
Wishing I were never born
I remember….
When no effort is worthwhile
On my face no trace of smile
When my heart does naught but weep
For a love I cannot keep
I remember….
I remember,
A kingdom in which I reign
Where I banish grief and pain
A kingdom where all is light
With rolling hills, verdant, bright
I tremble….
I smile, for I am a Queen
Only beauty can be seen
Fairies flutter to and fro
Peace and joy is all I know
I tremble….
Yes,
I tremble with sheer delight
My crown glows with heaven’s light
I am loved, and I am free
For a QUEEN resides in me
I remember!!!!
Eileen Manassian Ghali
A poem dedicated to my friend, FLO Thomas, for her poem, The Kingdom of Ghali. I’m hiding away in my room, but the visit to this poem again, to this magical kingdom, brought a ray of light shining in. Love you, Flo! OXOXOXOXO I tease my family and friends that...I'm really a princess. I tell them, "Haven't you gotten that memo?" They all just laugh at me. Now...I have a wonderful comeback. "You won't even see the PRINCESS in me...on Poetry SOUP...I'm a QUEEN!!!!" Oh...the joy of virtual dreams!
Kindness goes a LONG LONG WAY!!!
Known for miles around
As the Queen of Croissants
She’d perfected her art for years
But at what cost
More physically demanding than you might think
She gave the best years of her youth
Working at a small town bakery
The strain on her hands and body taking their toll
Owners had lucked out and they knew it
She loved her art and would have done it for free
Trying to produce the work of three
Never took a sick day in twenty-five years
Couldn’t have worked harder if the place had been her own
The owners were greedy, looking to save their own hide
Watched her toil while they leisurely went about their day
Went on vacations leaving her the keys
Knowing all too well the place would run smoothly
Heaven forbid she would get a thank you
Or - bite your lip – a bonus
AP: 2nd place 2020
March 4, 2018 Poem of the Day
Originally posted on March 2, 2018
From far they come and watch,
to see if they're her match.
How they wish for a chance,
to sway the queen of dance.
In awe they watch her whirl,
waltz, strut, skip, twirl and swirl.
Moves to chants that sound wild,
not for hearts that beat mild.
A swan who wants to sail,
who longs to tell her tale.
Needs a man not a boy,
on her quest to spread joy.
Yearns for love that feels true,
when in storms, pulls her through.
A soul who helps her swing.
A heart who soothes the sting.
Love her to sense her charm,
shield her from those who harm.
Douse her fire and she'll tame,
then bond like a twin flame.
Silent One
6 February 2018
Example for 120 words contest.
6 words per line.
All one syllable. 6 syllables per line.
20 lines.
120 words.
Some numpty bad mouthed my soup style
I’ve taken a break for a while
But I won't be deterred
From writing about turd
And subjects some others deem vile
I’m producing book number two
It contains some poems on poo
Foul flatus departing
Old codgers rank farting
And my pet hate vile doggy doo!
True grace I hear the songs within her heart
Her hidden life, the secret
Glow from butterfly wings
- My first Kimo :) .... 16.02.2015
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
The moonbeams bore you in a cradle of light smiling
warmly a cold blue winter moon rocking over and back thoughts
Midnight mystery howling to a silver reflection deeply echoes whispering winds
over Snow Mountain faraway dreaming stars twinkle in your treasure jewels
Lost trying to catch your trail freedom inside love the spark igniting
magic believing in a fairy tale ending dust in a thousand dreams enchanting
I post my poems on poetry soup
About farting and guys with brewer’s droop
I’ve been given a crown
And I won’t let Flo down
Be assured I’ll keep on posting my poop!
Posted in conjunction with my blog about my amazing gifts from F J Thomas
25th January 2017
Woke up to a new life in Egypt
I was young not more than seventeen years
Adorned with gold and precious stones
My body was in the shroud of silk and jewels in my hair
I sat on a throne as a Queen
My name was Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile
During the day I lay on the silk cushions
and dozed in the shade of palm trees
Beautiful men and women kept flitting
around me with all sorts of temptations
Fed me all sorts of fruit and cold drinks
When evening came, it was time for romance
As Queen I had many to choose
My choice was of course:
"The greatest men of Rome"
Julius Caesar and Marcus Antonius
Why choose one when I can have two?
On a long journey down the Nile with
my love Julius Caesar, I was forced to
make a choice.
But a choice one must take...and the
choice was that I gave birth to a son
and Julius Caesar was the father
My love life was not popular
my husband was killed and I
was no longer popular
It was no longer a life of happiness and joy
No, it was war and national mouming
and I would not live anymore
18.03.2012
A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
She’d dwelt within a palace, and outside
it, geese and brilliant peacocks used to strut
inside a fragrant garden. As a bride,
she’d said her vows beside the roses, but
today no scent of blooms perfumes the air.
The terrace sculptures, rubble now, are strewn
across the floor. She gazes eastward where
the mangos’ branches danced beneath the moon
when zephyrs softly blew. Like poison, now
a vapor comes, beginning to enwreathe
her husband’s realm. There is a smell so foul
her heart wells up with dread; she cannot breathe.
As ashes drift around, she hangs her head
with certainty her one beloved is dead.
Written by Andrea Dietrich Oct. 11, 2014
for the Top Gun Poetry - Structured forms - Iambic verse III of Giorgio A. V.
Form: Iambic Pentameter in an English Sonnet
I waited for a man with no cards up his sleeve
one who dated with sincerity
hoping, believing
searching for a beau to cast a royal flush
I seek only to complete his life
I've encountered many Jacks
players lacking good intent
yet these men had found their matches
they had more in common with the Queen of Diamonds
I need no wealth or fame
professions of love would be enough
it is a game I cannot win
a Queen of Hearts, I lie unnoticed
having slipped to the floor
will anyone miss my presence
or is the deck stacked against me
*Entry for Paula's "Pick a Card, Any Card" contest
My sister Jan, y'all know who I mean
Joined the Soup and became a giggle machine
Big laughs galore
Leaves us wanting more
Giggle Queen of the Soup, brings joy to the scene
© Jack Ellison 2015
Your ass is slightly enlarged
Your hips are somewhat wide
You have wrinkles all over your thighs
You eyes they droop
Crows feet shoot me dead
With your dreary eye stare
The world sees ugly, over due and despair
Your chest is a scar
Red and ripe, disfigured and bare
Your time is up
Old maiden of the past
Your saggy story makes you a sad lass
However not all is as it seems
Those passerby’s who seek no depth
They know not the secrets of innocent youth
They drink not from the water of the wise well
I see you, so clear I cry
Your smile, your laughter and you wonder why?
I have fallen for you, faults and all
For me it’s your beauty that stands so tall
You are a painting on a museum wall
Desired, your smile for sure does enthrall
Your voice sings to the heavens above
Your touch upon my heart melts my cold dark wounds
The lines I see upon your face
Each a sign of wisdom and grace
May I kiss that scar upon your chest?
May I confess you that scare is the door to your desires
A place I dreamed to live from the start
Let me dance, let me sing
You are my beauty, so let me in
Love letters flow, like grapes to wine
Silently we sway to and fro, passing time
In my veins you flow, you can not run away
Needless dances of insecure thoughts
If only, if only I could have this last Serenade